


The Price of Sanity

by Fiorenza_a



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:57:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiorenza_a/pseuds/Fiorenza_a
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya was immaculate. Curled on the floor as if sleeping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price of Sanity

Illya was immaculate. Curled on the floor as if sleeping. Expensive dark suit and dark tie. Cuff links, watch, tie clip, none of them U.N.C.L.E., all of them gold. Two dark cashmere socks but only one shiny laced shoe, gleaming black. The silken mop of his hair catching and reflecting the soft lighting. 

He was perfect. Perfect in all but the missing shoe and the incongruous red stain on the front of his crisp white shirt. 

Napoleon stood in the doorway with his hands raised. The woman who faced him had a gun and was clearly no fool because she had the muzzle trained on Illya. Whatever Napoleon tried, Illya would be dead before he tried it; but he couldn't let her go. Thousands would die if she reached the balcony and signalled to her accomplices.

Illya was expendable. Even the Russian would have told him so. Napoleon had already called her bluff once and the result had blossomed red against his partner's shirt. 

Napoleon knew he had no choices left. That Illya would be the cost of his victory. That he would bury the man at his feet because, finally, his luck had run out. That he would walk away and report to Alexander Waverly the death of one more agent and the thwarting of one more plot. That he would write it in his report and file Illya's last moments away for posterity. That he would take the next assignment and the next until he was stopped or grew too old to continue. That the world would go on, but that Illya would not. 

All this he knew. And yet still he did not move. For in the balance of his mind Illya was not expendable. The thousands of faceless victims demanding his duty did not weigh as heavily in his soul as the one face he knew who asked nothing, but to whom he had freely given his loyalty. 

The woman backed away from him. Disbelieving and wary. Sensing a trap. Napoleon stood motionless as Illya breathed and bled.

''Let me check him'' Napoleon asked. ''Please.''

''I'm no fool, move and he's dead.''

''If he dies, you will die.''

''Fine words, but they mean nothing. I won't be found and your precious agency denies its operatives the privilege of vengeance.'' 

Napoleon smiled. A beautiful, warming smile. Lit with humanity. ''May I?'' he asked and gestured to the pocket inside his jacket.

The wave of her gun signalled her assent but gave Illya no reprieve as she continued backwards towards the balcony. Feline in her grace.

Napoleon pulled his communicator and ID from his jacket and dropped them to the floor. She already had his gun. She had pointed it at Illya. 

Napoleon smiled again. Gracious. Disarming. The smile of a good man. A gentle man. Then he moved only one foot. Lifting it a few inches from the floor to crush his communicator against his ID. 

''If he dies I will no longer be an operative. I will not seek vengeance; I shall become vengeance. I would sell my soul to avenge his and I would do it gladly, willingly. Knowing what I would become. What it would make of me.''

''I do not believe you.''

Napoleon smiled again. ''It is unimportant what you believe. I am simply making a promise.''

''He would ask that of you?''

''He would ask nothing except that I stop you. Even at the cost of his life. He is still an agent. I am no longer. And the promise was not made to him.''

''Who then?''

Napoleon smiled. It was not a dangerous smile. ''You'' he said softly. ''You will know hell so that he may know peace.''

''You sound like a mad man.''

''Yes'' said Napoleon. ''Sanity requires that he dies. I find that I no longer have a use for sanity. Look into my eyes and tell me you can still find my soul.''

''I find...'' She stopped. Standing now in the frame of the long windows opening to the balcony. ''I find...nothing.''

Napoleon smiled. ''Will you shoot him now?''

''You and he both.''

''No. There are not enough bullets. It is my gun. I know. You may shoot one, but not the other. Which will it be? For if he lives he will not stop, as I would not stop. It is our greatest weakness. Our frailty will overwhelm you. Choose now and choose carefully because you choose how you die.'' 

''I do not believe you. Why would you carry a gun with so few bullets?''

''I used them. I have not reloaded.''

''When did you use them?''

''Before. When I broke in here. I killed five men to get in here. Five men are hardly the worth of my partner. I would have killed five hundred.''

''There are others. The house is well guarded.''

''There were others'' Napoleon agreed. ''I broke two necks. I stabbed one with his own knife and one I threw to your dogs. You keep them hungry.''

''There were more.''

''There were, but not now. Perhaps I should tell you how they died. Do you dream? You would dream of what I told you, but you would not sleep.'' 

''He said he was a prince'' she said. ''We checked on him, spied on him. There was nothing.''

''He is a prince, but he lies. He lies very well. He lies so that others may live. He lies even when he may die. But he is a prince.''

''Of the old family?''

''No. His blood is red. You can see it. Not blue. And yet he is a prince.''

''I do not understand.''

''No one cares if you do.''

''Why does he have only one shoe?''

''Why indeed?'' 

''You do not know?''

''I do not care. If you did not take it, he took it off for reasons of his own.''

''And that is enough for you?'' she asked ''You don't need an explanation?''

''He is my partner'' replied Napoleon ''that is explanation enough.''

''That makes no sense.''

''If you do not understand that'' Napoleon said gently ''then you will die without understanding why.'' 

''You do not scare me.''

''It matters to no one but you.''

''And if I let him live?''

''I would tend to him. See that he is healed.''

''Even at the cost of so many lives?''

''Even then.''

''You said he was an agent. He would not forgive you. Or is that something else that needs no explanation beyond partnership?''

Napoleon smiled a small sad smile. ''No. He would not forgive me. I would have betrayed him. He would not understand such a betrayal.''

''You would pay such a price?''

''Everyday and for the rest of my life.''

''I lied. You scare me. This scares me. No man acts as you do. Perhaps I should shoot you.''

''In your place, it would be my choice.''

''You are not afraid to die?''

''I fear nothing but living. Without him.''

''And that is why I should kill you?''

''No that is why I might wish to be dead. Your reason would be different.''

''Tell me.''

''You should kill me because you have not seen the devil, but you will if he dies and I do not.''

''That sounds insane.''

''I left sanity behind when we began this conversation. I do not ask for it back. I ask only for the life of my partner.''

''He is bleeding'' she said.

''He is dying'' Napoleon replied.

''I have only to light the candle in that lantern and thousands will die. Is one death so important?''

''Yes.''

''Is that all?''

''That is everything.''

She smiled a beautiful lonely smile and her green eyes sparkled and filled with tears. ''You said 'choose carefully because you choose how you die'.''

''It was the truth.'' 

''You do not lie?''

''Yes I lie, but not today.''

''Because of him, because he is a prince?''

''Because of him. And because of love.''

''I have never known love.''

''Then I will weep for you. When I weep for him. If I live and he does not and you do not.''

''Not for yourself?''

''I will have become a monster. Monsters have no right to tears.'' 

''Then I choose. Weep for me. Yours will be the only tears for I am already a monster.'' The gun, Napoleon's gun, turned in her hand and gave up its remaining bullet.

She fell alone and unloved. Perfect but for the spreading red stain and the torment of her soul. 

Napoleon shrugged off his jacket and knelt by his partner. Pressing against the wounds. ''They are coming Illya. They know we are here. You are safe now.''

 

END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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